Read The Florentine Cypher: Kate Benedict Paranormal Mystery #3 (The Kate Benedict Series) for Free Online Page A

Dad and we’ll be back in London in time for dinner on Sunday. Besides, Dad will be happy to see us.”
    “That works. I hope Ethan turns up. I’d like to know what the heck is going on.”
    “Me too. But even if he doesn’t, we’ll leave the book with Claire. I don’t want to miss any time at work.”
    I made my tea and carried it to the table, careful to place it far from the
Della Pittura.
    “I can’t miss work either,” Leo said. “We have spring exams coming up and I have a veritable Everest of paper on my desk. I’m off to grab some sleep. I’ll have an earlier start than you. See you at the check-in desk.”
    When Leo rang off, I checked the online timetable for the Gatwick Express, the fast train that ran from central London to the airport, and then I booked a taxi to take me to Victoria Station. My eyes were itchy with fatigue, but I managed to pack a change of clothes into an overnight duffel bag, as well as a pair of PJ bottoms and one of Josh’s T-shirts to sleep in. I nestled the book on top of the clothes and then changed my mind, took it back out, removed the kidskin pouch and hid it at the bottom of my handbag underneath my passport. I put the book back in the overnight duffle bag. With everything ready, I set several alarms for five a.m. before collapsing, fully dressed, on to my bed. If I were lucky, I’d catch a few hours’ sleep.
    It was still dark when the alarms went off, and I woke, groggy and discombobulated, wondering why I’d slept in my clothes. The events of the previous evening came back to me like the memory of a wild dream. I checked my phone. There was nothing from Ethan. While I made tea and toast, I called Claire, but she didn’t answer. I’d have to keep trying her from the road.
    The taxi arrived just as I finished a phone call to my father. An early riser, he didn’t even seem surprised to hear from me before dawn on a Saturday morning. When I said I was coming for a short visit, he sounded disappointed, and I realized he thought I intended to cancel my Easter trip. “I’m still coming that weekend and so is the rest of the family,” I said. “Today, I have to drop something off in Florence. It’ll only take an hour or two.”
    “So why’s Leo coming?” he asked.
    “I’ll explain it when we get there. Have to dash, Dad. Love you.”
    As I ran down the three flights of stairs to the waiting taxi, I couldn’t help thinking that I should still be snuggled under my duvet, looking forward to coffee, binge-watching the History channel and maybe a run in Hyde Park. But here I was dashing off to Florence on the basis of a baffling text from Ethan. It was crazy, but then the whole previous evening felt like a headlong plunge down a rabbit hole.
    I got into the taxi, and we set out under grey skies. The rain had stopped but the air was damp and chilly. Twice, we had to stop for roadworks, the construction sites lit up with bright lights.
    “Why are they doing repairs on a weekend?” complained the taxi driver, a beefy man with a strong Cockney accent, who could have been a bouncer in his spare time. I guessed he would have been equally unhappy with roadworks on a Monday or Friday. At least we didn’t have any commute traffic to contend with, but still the delays were bad enough to make me worry that I’d miss the train. I checked my watch several times as we drove along Grosvenor Place, deserted at this time of day. After another frustrating stop half a mile from the station, we took off again and pulled into Victoria with a couple of minutes to spare. I threw some money at the driver and jogged across the concourse to my platform.

CHAPTER FIVE
    The Express arrived on time at Gatwick, where I took my place at the back of a queue to go through security. Leo, predictably, hadn’t arrived yet. The line inched forward, but there was no sign of him. I’d passed through security and was checking the signs for my gate number when my phone rang.
    “Kate, it’s Leo.